Thus endeth my birthday

So I wake up about quarter to one in the morning, and realize I hadn't put any Diet Coke in the fridge for Herself to swig on the way to work. I figure I'll whip downstairs and get the case we'd bought for the weekend out of the trunk of the car after remembering we didn't have any in the kitchen. Heck, no need to even put on my sweats, RIGHT?

Soooo, I fetch the car keys and get the precious cargo out of the trunk - and turn around to see Mozart has followed daddy out to the garage so he can be so incredibly helpful and stuff. Of course, when I actually spot the little perisher he promptly duck under the car.

Swearing mightily, I set the case of Diet Coke down and spend the next half an hour plus in 32 degree weather, in my skivvies and a t-shirt, freezing off my wrinkly bits to get that +!_(@* cat out from under the car. Thank Ghu the garage door was closed.

I get back upstairs to find out one of the other cats has knocked our big bedside fan off the dresser and it was currently laying face down with the front grill having come clean off. Easily repaired, mind you, but feh.

My beloved, of course, has slept soundly through all this.

I love my life. Really. Truly. You have no idea. Two or three times.

Before I forget, I want to thank each and every one of you who wished me happy birthday. To those who didn't, I say thphttttt on you (and I do mean thphttttt).

Dear God, don't let this be true.

I'm putting this behind a cut, because if you're at work or somewhere where being incredibly upset (if you're not after you read this, get the hell off my planet) would cause undue attention, then you don't need to read this right now. Read it when you get home.

( You've been warned. )

You just *knew* I had to take this one.

( But by night I'm one sick motherfscker! )

Utterly out of left field thought..

I wonder how much scratch it would take to open up a House Of Blues around here? Hmmm.